


luscious

by kocuria



Series: the Winter drabbles [8]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Domestic Fluff, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff, Hair Braiding, Hair Brushing, Headspace, M/M, Multiple Personalities, Pining, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Sharing a Body, touch-aversion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:41:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25659163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kocuria/pseuds/kocuria
Summary: Bucky’s halfway through his warm-up when Natalia waltzes in, her hair braided away from her face in an updo that somehow looks completely effortless and red carpet-worthy at the same time. Bucky feels Winter zero in on her in a way usually only reserved for kitten photos on shelter adoption websites.What isthat.Why don’t you ask her?Bucky counters, amused.-The one about Winter's hair.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes & Winter, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Winter
Series: the Winter drabbles [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1805338
Comments: 23
Kudos: 300





	luscious

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote _another_ thing about Bucky's hair... there's already a lot of documentation of my obsession on [Tumblr](https://kocuria.tumblr.com/tagged/bucky%27s-hair) and [ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20202931) 😂 _Of course_ Winter had to have luscious hair. It was inevitable.  
> Fun fact: I've had dreadlocks for over a decade, and never really had long hair before that. Researching this fic has been... very informative 😁
> 
> About Russian names: Natasha's name is Natalia Romanova and this is the hill I will die on as a Slavic person 😉 Natasha, Tasha are its diminutives, hence Bucky and Winter's use of them.  
> Зимний /Zimniy/ which translates to "wintery" or "cold" is (from what I gather) the commonly accepted Russian fandom version of Winter 💖 
> 
> This series is currently being translated into Russian - _he thought we could trust you_ already is - so the sudden resurgence of Winter plot bunnies is partly due to my sheer admiration at the translator's frankly _fantabulous_ job. Reading your work in a different language really gives you a whole nother, fascinating perspective.  
>   
>   
> The author has no experience with Dissociative Identity Disorder whatsoever (way too much with other fun mental stuff though).  
> Shared headspace: **bold** for Winter, _italics_ for Bucky.  
> You can find the series timeline [HERE!](https://kocuria.tumblr.com/post/637890812746891264/timeline-for-the-winter-drabbles-series)  
>   
> Find me on [Tumblr](https://kocuria.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/kocuria)

It starts, as things often do these days, with Natalia.

It’s supposed to be a sparring session between Bucky and her - Bucky doesn’t have Winter’s fighting skills, and everyone concerned agreed that it needs to be rectified as soon as possible. Bucky immediately vetoed the idea of training with Steve, the images of Steve’s eye socket bashed in by his metal hand entirely too vivid in his mind… so Natalia it is. Bucky finds their afternoons surprisingly enjoyable - Tasha is a good teacher, and it feels more like remembering something his body already knows than learning a completely new skill. 

He’s halfway through his warm-up when she waltzes in, her hair braided away from her face in an updo that somehow looks completely effortless and red carpet-worthy at the same time. Bucky feels Winter zero in on her in a way usually only reserved for kitten photos on shelter adoption websites.

 **What is** **_that._ **

_Why don’t you ask her?_ Bucky counters, amused.

Winter doesn’t need more encouragement to skirt around Bucky and come to the front - they’ve already established that Bucky’s more than okay with him taking over in pretty much any situation. Winter always moves a bit like a predator on the hunt, his body language so much more graceful than Bucky’s, so Natalia takes notice immediately.

“Зимний, what's up?” she asks, smiling.

“Your hair,” Winter states, laser-focused. There’s a hairpin with a tiny purple arrow, contrasting nicely with Tasha’s currently silver-blonde locks. Bucky feels Winter _itching_ to come closer and examine it, touch it.

“Oh, the color? I was undercover in Budapest.” All three of them wince, knowing how much effort it takes to disguise the face that was broadcast worldwide for weeks on end.

“No. The… the braids. How did you do _that,”_ Winter specifies. “It’s _pretty.”_

Natalia looks like Christmas came early _and_ she got a shiny new set of knives. “Want me to teach you?” she asks, and Winter nods so enthusiastically Bucky surprised they don’t get dizzy.

Bucky can’t help but snort at Steve’s face when Winter bursts into their living room sporting what Natalia called a “simple diagonal French braid”. He beelines straight for where Steve’s seated on the sofa with his sketchbook, and Steve blushes furiously, snapping it shut immediately - oh, so he was drawing _them_ again. Bucky smiles fondly at the way he tries to hide it from… who, exactly? It’s not like they don’t know Bucky was his favorite subject before the war. _Those sketches are in the goddamn Smithsonian, Steven. You’re fooling no-one._

Winter throws himself on the sofa next to Steve - not exactly touching, but not very far, either - and looks at Steve with huge, pleading eyes.

“Steve,” he begins, and Steve.

Steve melts.

He always does, when Winter uses his name - he’s aware that for a long time, he was _the Captain_ to him. The superior officer. The handler. The use of his actual name shows just how comfortable Winter’s gotten around him.

 _Oh, you’ve got him right where you want him, pal,_ Bucky drawls. There’s no response from Winter, who’s single-mindedly focused on the task at hand.

“Steve, I need an Amazon account,” Winter declares.

Steve blinks owlishly. “I. You. Okay?” he finally manages. “Wasn’t Bucky supposed to train with Natasha?” 

His eyes keep going up to their hair. Bucky sits back to enjoy the show that’s a flustered Steve Rogers.

“Tasha taught me how to _braid hair,_ Steve,” Winter answers, like that explains everything. Well, it kinda does.

“I… can see that,” Steve mumbles distractedly.

“I need a special brush. And almond oil,” Winter continues, speeding up, his excitement coming through. “And Tasha said once I grow it out a bit she can teach me how to do something she calls a crown. Steve, her hair was _so soft!”_

There’s another blush starting high on Steve’s cheeks. His hand twitches, like he wants to reach out and touch the fluffy braid, but he visibly stops himself, mindful of Winter’s boundaries.

 _Good job, Stevie,_ Bucky murmurs. 

What follows can only be called a conspiracy. Once the women of the Tower realize Winter’s interest, they go out of their way to encourage him in his new endeavor. Bucky and Steve are somewhat perplexed by the proceedings - the amount of products and accessories that are supposedly “absolutely essential” is truly staggering. There’s something called “subscription boxes” that Darcy introduces Winter to. Their bathroom counters quickly fill up with colorful tubes and bottles.

Bucky learns the basic everyday hair-care routine that Winter settles on, since occasionally he’s the one performing it. Steve gamely says nothing about the frankly exorbitant charges to his credit card. It’s not like he hasn’t got the money, even if 40$ for a small bottle of shampoo boggles his Depression era mind.

It does smell amazing, though. And Steve becomes somewhat obsessed, running his fingers through their silky hair with astonished reverence whenever Bucky cuddles with him.

Natalia insists on teaching them how to use the hair to their advantage in a fight - using it as an easy bait for an opponent - _and_ how to put it up securely enough that it wouldn’t become a handicap. That second part opens the doorway to the wondrous world of headbands and pins that Winter throws himself into with complete abandon.

The way they look now depends very much on who was “driving” in the morning - Winter likes spending considerable time putting their hair up in increasingly more elaborate up-dos, while Bucky usually goes for wearing it down… initially. He does learn to braid it quite quickly - it’s pretty much muscle memory, and it makes Winter happy, when he emerges and finds it already done up, no matter how simple.

Bucky’s aware that he’s just about as wrapped around Winter’s little finger as Steve is. It makes him feel weird, sometimes, almost narcissistic - in a way, he is Winter, and Winter is him… but it's surprisingly easy to dismiss the thought. Winter deserves all the softest things in the world. Learning to care for their increasingly luscious hair? It’s the least Bucky can do.

Winter adamantly refuses going to a hairdresser, no matter how many times Pepper assures him that her stylist is trustworthy and passed all SI security checks with flying colors. The only person he trusts at their back like that is Natalia.

It’s a quiet December evening, the falling snow making the always amazing skyline of New York look truly magical, when Winter inches into the living room hesitantly, visibly torn about something. Steve, as usual, immediately perks up, and his beaming smile softens when he sees the unsure way Winter's holding himself. He tries his best to project approachability, and it seems to work - Winter squares his shoulders, nods to himself decisively, then struts right to Steve and thrusts something into his hand.

Steve looks down to see Winter's favorite hair brush - the one he always sees Natasha using when she does his hair, with soft black bristles and an already well-worn wooden handle. He looks up at Winter quizzically.

“Could you?” Winter gestures vaguely in the direction of his hair, tangled from the nap he took this afternoon. He doesn’t seem to have any more words, watching Steve in a way that suggests one wrong move will spook him away.

 _C’mon, Stevie,_ Bucky murmurs when Steve just stares at them, speechless. He can sense Winter coiling to dart away. _Shh, Winter, wait. Give him a second to process._

Winter exhales explosively when Steve says nothing, and starts to turn around, ready to tactically retreat into his room, when Steve’s free hand shoots out and softly grabs his metal wrist. It’s almost like a repeat of that disastrous afternoon - Steve restraining Winter, half a step away from a full-blown fight that would’ve ended in a disaster in more ways than one, except… except it’s nothing like that at all. This touch is gentle and careful. 

And welcomed. Instead of tensing up, Winter relaxes and turns back to face Steve, something like hope unfurling in him.

 _There we go,_ Bucky whispers.

“Of course, Winter,” Steve finally says, looking completely stunned. There’s a dazzling smile growing on his face, and Bucky feels Winter mirror it. “Where do you want me?” Steve asks, already standing up.

The most logical set-up would be Winter sitting on the floor in front of Steve, but they all know better than to expect Winter to sit at anyone’s feet. Even - _especially_ \- Steve’s.

Winter blinks, then goes to his beloved armchair, curling his legs up and sitting sideways to allow easy access. There’s a bashfulness to his movement, so unlike his usual predatory grace that it makes Bucky wonder for a second if he’s playing it up for Steve’s benefit, just a little.

Judging by the tiny spark of mirth deep under the sudden butterflies, Winter knows exactly what this show of trust is doing to Steve. Bucky would high-five him, if he wasn’t afraid of breaking the spell that seems to have fallen over them.

Steve looks around for a moment, quickly locates what he needs - the blue blanket folded on the back of the sofa - and brings it to Winter with a hopeful expression.

Bucky quietly cheers. Greatest tactical mind of their generation, right there.

Winter beams up at Steve and immediately burritos himself in the soft fleece, tilting his head back expectantly. Steve takes a deep, steadying breath, moves to stand behind him and gets started. He’s obviously paid close attention these past few months - his movements may be unpracticed, but they’re infinitely gentle, picking a strand at a time and delicately brushing it out.

Bucky suddenly realizes that Winter always goes to sleep with his hair braided to avoid this exact problem. Their hair is thick and unruly, so he’s learned quickly that just going to sleep with it down ends with-

with-

well. With a besotted supersoldier grooming them adoringly, like they’re made of spun glass that he can’t believe he gets to touch.

Bucky cackles. Winter closes his eyes contentedly and purrs.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! 🙃  
>   
>   
> 


End file.
